


Anabiosis

by The_Readers_Muse



Category: Pitch Black (2000), The Chronicles of Riddick (2004), The Chronicles of Riddick Series
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama & Romance, Dubious Consent, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Manipulation, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-02 12:20:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20275816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Readers_Muse/pseuds/The_Readers_Muse
Summary: And all the while, his chest burned.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own "The Chronicles of Riddick" or any of the Riddick universe characters, wishful thinking aside.
> 
> Authors Note #1: I got pulled back into this fandom after watching "Pitch Black" again for the first time in years and then realized I'd never gotten around to doing a Riddick/Vakko fic.
> 
> Warnings: canon appropriate violence, drama, angst, blood and injury, emotional turmoil, mild sexual content, vague alpha/beta/omega dynamics, enemies to lovers.

The breeder was a disease.

He itched.

Like a wound that should have hurt so sweetly, the new Lord Marshal only grated and chaffed. Giving him no satisfaction. No rest. No focus or purpose.

It left him restless.

Irritated.

_Impure._

Purification had ceased to give him the relief he craved. The blessed emptiness that had been filled with purpose and unwavering belief in the cause - yearning to see the fleet one step closer to the Threshold - was suddenly out of his reach. Becoming less effective by the session, until even his deadened nerves had started to tinge pink with living color for the first time in decades. Forcing him to hide the evidence of his weakness with his wife's powders and serums.

It wouldn't be long before he was discovered. Even now he was drawing on all his knowledge to alter the purification records. Keeping himself out of suspicion as the slow trend of change only got worse by the day. Knowing that eventually his body would betray him and then all would be known.

After all, what use was there in a Necromonger who cannot be part of the whole?

He'd even gone so far as the scan the ship for infectious agents.

But there was nothing.

_Nothing!_

And the longer he was forced to be in the Lord Marshal's presence, the worse it became. As if the breeder was directly responsible for his unmeaning disloyalty. There was truth to it, he decided. Spending long hours alone, training, when his body refused to sleep. Forced to grit his teeth and feel every muscle - every chord, every beat of his heart - as the mantras he knew so well ceased to provide any clarity.

He was being altered without his consent.

_Changed._

And as if he could sense it, he felt the Lord Marshal's gaze constantly.

His chest ached.

* * *

"Is there something you want to share with the class?"

The little hairs on the back of his neck prickled - another lapse - when he sensed the man behind him during their usual council meeting. Only just realizing they were alone. That the others were gone. He hadn't heard them leave.

_How long had the meeting been over?_

He swallowed, hard. Closing his eyes when the sound carried.

Riddick chuckled, dark and thick like something he remembered from long ago. Teasing on the very edge of memories that had been closed to him since the day he converted. Emotions had been unnecessary from that day forward. Save for loyalty and ambition - so long as they served the cause.

His hands curled around the console, feeling it begin to give before his fingers danced away, skirting the controls. He bowed his head, showing his deference. But it wasn't what he felt. What he felt was a tangle. A conflicting mess he didn't know or want to make sense of.

Not yet.

"You plan to keep runnin', Vaako?"

His hackles arced, in spite himself.

_He was no coward!_

Only he was.

He _was_ running.

The voice in the back of his head that didn't let him sleep, whispered.

Telling him the feeling had a name.

The air smelled sweet.

Condensed.

Like the ship itself had started breathing.

_No, not the ship._

He wasn't sure what possessed him to do it, but he rose. Staring at the Lord Marshal boldly, forgetting himself. Refusing to stop his approach until they were practically touching. Armor against flesh and yet somehow he was the one that felt exposed.  
Riddick cocked his head, lip quirked in an animal smile.

He wanted to bite it off.

He wanted to taste his red and spit it back up again. Speckling that warm breeder's flesh.

He wanted-

"You smell good..." Riddick hummed, inhaling audibly. Scenting the air as he closed the last of the space and splayed his hand across his armored chest. Palm wide. Calloused. Scarred. Making him shiver. Imagining he could almost feel the warmth. "Like mine. ...Why do you smell like mine?"

He backed away, leaving the room without a word.

Riddick just watched him.

His chest hurt.

* * *

He successfully avoided the Lord Marshal for days after that. Relieved and strangely irritated at not always having him underfoot. At least until he was summoned directly. That was how he found himself hesitating outside the Lord Marshals' personal chambers. Knowing the breeder could sense him. Knowing his reluctance was being noted by the guards. Information soon to be used as currency in the rumor mills of the other elites.

His fists curled at his sides as he readied himself, inclining his head. Waiting passively until the guard pressed the chime. Suspended in animation until the doors slid open, revealing only darkness. Pride and determination were the only forces that encouraged him forward.

The pitch black only grew darker when the door closed behind him. He held himself still, one hand drifting to the knife at his hip. Willing his eyes to adjust as the room slowly took shape around him.

Riddick was no where to be seen.

He stiffened when the sound of claws echoed across the metal floor. Only just able to catch the movement as one of the beasts the Lord Marshal had retrieved from Crematoria circled him. Joined by another. Then another. All of them.

He lowered himself into a fighting stance as the beasts growled. Priding himself on barely making a sound as his blades slid from their sheaths. Keeping his eyes on the largest, the lead female, as her scales rattled.

"Drop them."

His eyes darted up - deeper into room - but still couldn't locate him.

"My lord?" he questioned, lips parting as the male beside the alpha female got bold and feinted a charge. He held his ground, letting his spine arc. Making himself look bigger than he was. The attempt was laughable and beneath him, but it worked. Causing the male to huff, hissing out a rumbling chorus that all but the lead female echoed.

"The knives. Drop them."

_Was this how it happened?_

_Would he die by the claws of the Lord Marshal's pets?_

_Savaged, just like their savage owner?_

_Or was it another test?_

"You heard me."

He eased the blades to the floor. The muscles in his legs started to burn as he kept his crouch. Muscles he shouldn't have been able to feel, but did anyway. Fighting to keep his composure as the breeder chuckled from the shadows.

"Good boy."

He nearly bit through his cheek, flooding his mouth with crimson. Sweating at the insult as the echoes taunted him. But before he could say a word or worse- retaliate, the female took a step forward. Sniffing at the trickle of red that was steadily painting the seam of his lips. Threatening to spill. Leaving him with the impression that if even a single droplet fell, it would be a blood bath.

He glanced down, eying the sheen of his blades as his fingers twitched.

He could grab them.

He could disobey.

He could-

A muscle in the back of his calf twitched the same moment the female growled. Vicious and slavering as a tremor rippled through him. So close he could feel the beast's breath when she showed him her teeth. Letting him see his death before something ranging and animal suddenly slotted into place and-

He snarled back.

Feeling more than hearing the growl that issued from deep in his throat as his lips pulled back. Showing his own teeth. Warning her to back down. Warning her to submit. Warning her that he would bite and claw just as fiercely if she dared to-

The beast stilled, considering him.

The horror that washed over him in the aftermath - in the silence - was heady and stomach churning. Unsure of what to do with himself when the other hounds backed away. All save for the female. She merely yawned in his face and lowered herself into a careless lounge beside him. Regal and comfortable as she forced herself into the grooves of his armor. Eyes slitted as she panted contently.

"Interesting," Riddick rumbled, like his lapse wasn't surprising at all. Like it had proven something he'd already suspected. Which made it worse. _Much worse_. Because it meant that the breeder knew. _That he suspected._

He was a complication at best. A threat to the cause. Even if the Lord Marshal continued to ignore tradition, it couldn't be ignored that he'd failed in his challenge for the throne. He'd made the first move after all - shown his desire for power. Logic demanded his death.

But Riddick made no challenge. No move to provide him with a quick death in due time. His wife might have wondered at the scheme, at the reason why. He, however, only shook with barely repressed rage.

He didn't understand.

Something flashed in his mind's eye. Flagged and florescent like a warning as he raised his head and stared into the gloom. Challenging without words. Daring to show his true feelings as the breeder's scent grew thick and dizzying in the closed space.

This time, when the growl came, it wasn't from the hound or him. It came from Riddick. Making his back want to arch the same moment the female's actually did. Eying Riddick for a long moment before she stretched. Massive hindquarters lifting as vicious claws scratched grooves in the metal floor. So close that if he relaxed even a fraction they would be touching.

"Careful Vaako..." the breeder said quietly. Hesitating for a long moment before appearing to rethink what he was going to say. "The last person who looked at me like that died with their eyes open."

He didn't lower his head, but after a moment he lowered his eyes. An unsteady compromise his pride could hardly bare. But it was apparently enough. With the strange, animal threat easing slightly.

_What was he doing?_

_Was he mad?_

_Is that what this was?_

_Madness?_

It was only after a long pause that he breathed again. He shouldn't have needed to, but it soon became habit forming. Making him shudder as each breath filled him with something more than air.

He hadn't thought about it when he'd faced the beast and challenged her

It had merely been there.

Instinctual.

A perfectly viable option when every inch of him told him it shouldn't have been.

"She likes you. Don't blame her," the breeder murmured. Separating from the shadows off to his right with a careless kick. Walking up to him as he straightened. Leaving his weapons on the ground.

He hadn't been given permission.

"What do you want of me?" he hissed. Barely keeping himself from choking the unholy life from him. Imagining how it would feel to watch the breeder's windpipe crumple. To be responsible for it when death finally took him. Wanting to bury his nose in the crook of his neck and own him. _Have_ _him_. Yes-

"Could ask you the same...especially with the way you're smelling these days."

He reared back, unsteady.

He didn't understand.

"I don't want anything from you. Not yet." Riddick continued cryptically. "But I gotta say, I'm starting too."

His molars grated together. Incensed. Confused. He had no intention of challenging the breeder for the throne. But at the same time, he could barely stand to see him draw breath. Able to feel the slow undermine of his control - everything he'd worked for - in real time.

And he didn't now why.

"You called me here for _nothing_," he hissed, realizing the man wasn't wearing his goggles. Staring at him with those strange silver eyes. The ones that weaved like corpse fingers between his ribs and tugged. Whispering that he'd seen their like before, so very long ago.

Somewhere, deep in his memory, a woman laughed.

"No. I called you here to test a theory," Riddick replied, the drawl of his voice rough. Laced with sarcastic inflection. Another sharp weapon among many.

The breeder didn't say anything more. He just left the words there for him to interpret. Like _he_ was the one lacking. Still, he didn't reply. Refusing to give him the satisfaction of his angry curiosity as his chest heaved. He would not be baited.

They stared at each other; time meaningless. Neither making a move to speak or leave. Caught in a suicidal sort of insanity he didn't know how to navigate as the lines of the breeder's shoulders turned aggressive and hard. Aware that something unfamiliar was screaming silently under his skin until they were suddenly interrupted by a chime.

The relief that flooded in its wake was crushing. Grateful for the electric lurch that jump-started his limbs a he took a step back and bowed deeply. Turning on his heel the same moment the Lord Marshal growled for the visitor to enter. Not daring to wait to be dismissed as he made it past the threshold and the guards. Eyes sheened with a suspicious, frustrated moisture, as he stalked down the corridor. Expression causing most to veer away and give him room.

And all the while, his chest burned.


	2. Chapter 2

Sleep refused to come, so he wandered. Feeling the weight of curious eyes following him - sharp like flint - as he abandoned the higher levels and stalked the lower halls. Remembering the slow climb in rank and status that had led him to abandon these places with no intention of looking back.

"Till Underverse come."

He stopped in the middle of the hall when the mantra echoed in his ears. Realizing it wasn't in his head when he heard it again. Suddenly aware that he'd strayed as far as the lower purification center as a few drones weaved between him and passed through the heavy metal threshold.

"Till Underverse come."

He watched from the shadows as the purifiers moved efficiently. Calm. Placid. Perfect.

His fingers tightened around the grooves in the wall.

"Till Underverse come."

He craved that same absolution. That same clarity. The simplicity of an overarching divine purpose. He watched the newest recruits line up to be purified hungrily. Seeing how they twitched and shook, eager to be cleansed of the last vestiges of what they were. The new had to be watched carefully and purified often. The breeder's woman had been a good example of that, if not a bit extreme. It took time for the body to forget to feel. To become one.

"Till Underverse come."

He wanted that back, but now he feared it as well. Flawed as he was, changed as he was, his infection had spread. Leaving him wanting things he should not. Questioning things he should not. Hungry for a shade that was not black or grey, but wash with complex color. The longer it went on, the worse the craving became.

"Till Underverse come."

He shuddered.

The woman that lived in the back of his head laughed again.

A worker brushed against him, trying to enter. Making him lash out, pressing a knife to the man's throat quicker than the dull-eyed thing could react. But there was no fear there. Only a slight widening of the eyes. A hitch in heartbeat. It made something in the heart of him want to snarl. He let the knife press a fraction deeper, purely because of it. Watching the grudging line of red slowly- too slowly- start to well and bead.

The flesh was already dead. The mind burned away. The wound-

"Till Underverse come."

"Get out of my sight," he gritted, lowering the knife with a disgust that felt strange as it threatened to make it to his face. Barely noticing when the man bowed, murmuring a meaningless apology before stepping away.

He forced his feet to move.

Hours passed as he came to terms with it.

_He felt._

That was enough.

For the first time in decades something inside of him was stretching, awake.

Testing the boundaries of its prison with a mind to escape.

And he was terrified. Jubilant. Furious._ Alive_.

And Riddick- he-

He startled when the click of claws sounded close by. Making him stiffen. Realizing he didn't recognize his surroundings as the beaten metal walls of the lowest deck shone dull in the low light. He turned slowly, watching as female who had responded to him in the Lord Marshal's quarters approached.

He wasn't afraid.

Instead, he felt...comforted.

_Unalone._

He allowed it when she rubbed against him. Scales screeching against his armor like a metallic greeting. His lip twitched when she clicked at him, rumbling a steady purr that made his hand move without his leave. Settling on her great head and scratching her cautiously.

She seemed to approve. Butting into his hand strongly before nudging at the part of his legs. Rubbing herself there as the sound of her purrs filled all the empty space he hadn't realized he'd been drowning in.

Again, the woman in the back of his head laughed. Only this time, the blurred outline of her face flashed in his mind's eye. She had dark hair and silver-filmed eyes. And for some reason, he was sure that a long time ago he'd known every line on her face.

When the beast got back to her feet and stretched, it seemed natural to follow her. Barely aware of where they were going or who they were passing as two other hounds flanked them. Creating a protective spade formation that threatened to make the tension in his shoulders sag. Able to feel the animal intensity of their protection as they made more than a few high-ranking officers shrink back before they could address him.

He didn't know where the she-beast was leading him until he caught a sudden scent.

He inhaled, then swallowed thickly. Following it all the way to-

_Riddick._

He paused in the doorway, keeping to the darkness as he watched the man move through his fighting forms. Two simple knives flashing as he sliced at empty air. Every fluid motion highlighting his lethality. His strength. His worthiness as a mate.

He rocked back. Only steadied by the snout of the female, who nudged him forward. Refusing to let him retreat as he tried to leave. Heart pounding so loud in his chest that the rhythm burned hotter and faster than the ache that hadn't let him rest since this had begun.

_What was happening?_

His fists clenched around the door frame.

Free of his googles, the breeder's eyes glinted silver as the knives changed hands mid-flip. Muscles sheened with sweat. It should have been repulsive. But instead, it was- it was-

He bared his teeth.

This was torment in detail.

He would not recover from this.

His rank and station would be forfeit.

Same with his life.

It was merely a matter of when the others would make their move.

Everything was over.

Irradiated.

_Dead._

"Done runnin'?" Riddick rumbled, as the breeder turned to face him. Knives out by his sides. Head cocking like he was taking him in. Making his face heat in rage as the bones in his fingers creaked dangerously.

He'd never known two words to hold such power. Because after they were uttered, everything he'd been keeping inside, every inch he'd tried so hard to control, exploded out of him like a super nova.

"This is your fault," he hissed, staggering into the dim circle of light with him. "Whatever you have done to me...remove it. _Reverse it._ I'm not-"

"Not what, Vaako?"

He wavered, stunned at the question.

_What was he not?_

Not one of the flock, for certain.

It should have been answer enough, but still- he hesitated.

"Not dead? Not like all of them? Seems like I did you a favor," Riddick answered, lips tugging in a smirk that boiled his blood. "But you got it all wrong. I didn't do anything. You guys invited me in, remember? I was just passing through. …No. This is all on you, Vaako. It just took you a while to get with the program. Stubborn bastard. I guess we're all like that. Probably why your old pal Zylaw wanted us dead."

He stumbled, reaching for his knife and drawing it out.

"I didn't sense you till after. You buried it. Better than I thought was possible. You fooled them all. Fooled yourself. But suddenly you were just there, in the throne room, bowing to me. And hell if that didn't feel right. That's the moment_. That's_ when you started to wake up. The head purifier? He was the same, and he said something to me before he ended it. We all began as something else. ...So, who were you, Vaako? I don't think you remember, but you _know,_ deep down, don't you? You know that you're-"

He launched himself at him with an agonized fury he could taste. Blade inches from it's mark before the man whirled, deflecting. Kicking out and slamming him off balance. But he wasn't deterred, in fact- he tasted the briefest victory when he allowed his blade to fall, snatching it out of mid-air with his other as he caught the breeder in a vicious upper-cut. Feeling the blade skim shallowly across the span of his chest. Not enough the slice the fabric of the man's wife-beater, but enough that he would have felt it.

And he did.

Retribution came in the form of an animal growl and the sudden dart of knives catching him in mid-stride. Finding himself in the rare position of being the lesser party as the Lord Marshal struck with readily precision. Knowing instantly he was out matched. Sloppy. Tired. Spent. But instead of wrending flesh, the strike sheared the straps of his armor from his chest. Fitting into the impossibly small gap with the ease of water finding a crack.

He snarled, lost, showing the man his teeth as he tore the useless armor away. Letting it hit the floor with a brutal clang. Leaving him pale and exposed in thin grey-mesh and a simple black shirt.

"You still smell like mine..." the man taunted, jerking forward to give the same treatment to his forearm guards, the backs of his knees, then the slit-sides of his thighs. Stripping him of his armor one piece at a time as he kept his knife tucked close, half-crouched, chest heaving. Tasting his own blood on the air as he waited for the perfect moment to strike.

It didn't come.

And, as if to prove that point, the man lifted one of his knives, showing him the shallow line of red that painted it. Staring at him deliberately before his tongue flicked out to taste.

To his horror, his cock twitched.

Interested.

Aroused.

Engorged.

He was panting.

The realization was distant. _Damning_. But before he could face it, Riddick was liquid against human air. Air that should have been host to the same rules and scientific laws that governed all things - only he seemed to be above them. Teasing with him with mock lunges designed to keep him on edge. Watchful. Nervous. Like a predator playing with its prey before enjoying its meal.

No. It was more complicated than that.

This was an invitation to play.

This was a game to him.

_A game._

The burn in his chest was a solar flare.

He waited until Riddick ranged close again before he moved. Using his larger frame to his advantage as he swept out, pushing him off balance and slamming him against the wall. Fist so close to connecting with the breeder's solar plexus he could smell the tart of blood as his nails scratched across the curve of prominent ribs. But Riddick avoided the worst of it somehow – bringing them down to the floor with a bone-crushing thud, tussling like animals.

Rational thought fled in favor of survival. In favor of something feral and old. Something so deeply routed in his DNA that it came naturally. Snarling and clawing as Riddick did the same. Rearing high above him as they rolled across the floor. Grabbing. Punching. Kicking. _Teeth._

But his world stopped - flaying him exposed – when Riddick's teeth suddenly sank into the pale of his neck. Grazing arteries as the sinews delineated the same moment he let go of a wordless cry.

He went boneless without his consent. Shoulders curling. Shuddering. Cock jerking. Pleasure spiraling so high that for a long moment he thought he might have spilled. He breathed shakily, pressing his cock into the metal floor as he clutched his chest. Sure his heart had burned clear through the skin.

"Fuck..." Riddick rasped, like he was surprised. Like he was caught in this the same way he was. Fighting instincts he didn't understand until the voice in the back of his head grew too loud to ignore.

_Fight._

_Prove your worth._

_And let your Alpha do the same._

_Fight._

_Make him bleed._

_Make him-_

Riddick licked at the mark, tongue curling. Making him see stars as the mark throbbed hotly. Righteously. Filling him with something new. Something-

"Mine..."

It took everything to wrench himself up on his forearms. Slamming his elbow into the man's rib-cage with a sloppy movement. It connected. Making Riddick grunt and collapse. Falling half on top of him as he fought to drag himself away.

But he didn't get far.

He didn't get more than a few feet before the pain in his chest intensified. Piercing through him with a roar he didn't realize was coming from him until it echoed. Sending him to his knees as he ripped at his chest, tearing through his shirt to show a glowing hand-print. The same one that was shining brightly on Riddick's chest as the man fell forward. Kneeling in front of him as they breathed together. Allowing it when the breeder reached for him, sinking his fingers into the meat of his shoulders until he let go of an answering growl. Feeling something settle in the chaos. Enough for him to sense the need as he lowered his head in deference. _Yielding._ He didn't understand why, not exactly. But for the first time in his life, he meant it.

_It had been earned._

Riddick hummed out a satisfied rumble.

"Just been waiting on you, sweetheart," Riddick told him, nuzzling into the hollow where his shoulder met throat. Rooting out his most honest scent until his mate's lips rasped wet and cracked over the raw edges of the mark he'd given him.

It was ironic, he supposed, that he believed him without question. And ironic still that slowly- slowly- everything was starting to make sense again. Perhaps for the first time since he'd felt the numbing sting of the Purifer's needles.

* * *

Home had teeth.

But then again, it always had.

It was the Furyan way.

**Author's Note:**

> Reference:
> 
> \- Anabiosis - a return to life after an apparent death.


End file.
